


Clothes (un)Make the Man

by Aviss



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviss/pseuds/Aviss
Summary: Jaime loves seeing Brienne in his shirt, almost as much as seeing her out of them."Do you have something against clothes I should know about, Jaime?"
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 68
Kudos: 169
Collections: The Exchange that was Promised: Jaime x Brienne Smut Swap 2021





	Clothes (un)Make the Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliveanddrunkonsunlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveanddrunkonsunlight/gifts).



> Dear Aliveanddrunkonsunlight, I adored your prompts, and this one just jumped at me as soon as I opened my assignment email. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thanks to out dear mods for organising this exchange, it's been a lot of fun to participate!

It's the emptiness that meets Jaime's hand when he extends it on the bed that fully wakes him up. 

He opens his eyes in the dimly lit room, the few sunrays that filter through the blinds bathing the bedroom in faint light and dust motes. He blinks at it for a moment, mind still fuzzy with sleep and the tail end of the previous night's drinks. 

There is a faint headache throbbing in his temples and his mouth tastes like Addam's old socks from when they played sports in college, and he clearly remembers not going back home alone, regardless of what his empty bed and silent flat tell him.

With a bit of an effort, Jaime pulls himself out of bed and into the bathroom, pointedly not looking at the other side of his bed. 

He doesn't know what he was expecting. Actually, he does know what he was expecting and that was to wake up with Brienne snuffle-snoring away by his side the same way she had been when falling asleep, naked and clinging to his side like an overgrown barnacle. 

This was never supposed to be a one night stand. They have been dancing around each other for months, since the moment Jaime saw a huge woman with the bluest eyes standing next to Catelyn Stark in one of the company meetings, and she had been introduced as the new head of Marketing. They had clashed that first time, mainly because Jaime had not been able to keep his first reaction to himself, and many more times afterwards, but their departments had to work closely, and Jaime had slowly eroded the walls Brienne had put around herself until last night--last night they had both been drunk with success and the vintage Arbor Gold they had received as congratulations for closing a very difficult client. The walls had come down all the way, then the clothes had come off and Jaime had finally, finally discovered the taste of Brienne and the feeling of her hands around his wrists while she pinned him to the bed. 

He had been hoping to return the favour in the morning.

He sighs and washes his face, the cold water doing little to wake him up. He needs caffeine. And some greasy food. And then he'll call Addam and moan for a while about having a taste of something that was not nearly enough to sate him.

He pads towards the kitchen, not bothering with more than just underwear, and goes straight for the coffee machine. The cupboard next to it is already open and the coffee tin is empty, same as his fridge. Jaime stares at it for a long second, uncomprehending, before he starts vehemently swearing in the middle of the vacant room. 

"That was also my reaction," Brienne says, closing the front door and dropping Jaime's keys on the small bowl by the entrance. "I hope you don't mind, I borrowed your keys to get us some breakfast."

Jaime turns to look at her, gaping like a fish before he forces his mouth closed. Brienne's hair is mussed and pulled behind her ears, as if she has just flattened it with her hand in lieu of a comb, and there are some traces of the previous day's mascara clinging to her clumped lashes and staining the corner of her eyes. She has a bag from the patisserie downstairs in her hand, and a carrier with two cups of coffee. That's not what's making him stare, though, all thoughts of breakfast gone. Brienne's wearing his shirt, the dark blue one he had on the night before, and it's making her eyes look unreal. It's also too tight on her chest and shoulders, and she has not buttoned it all the way up, a dark flush spreading from her face down her neck at Jaime's stunned silence. 

"Unless you'd rather not have breakfast," she says, dropping her eyes, her voice trailing off in the end. 

"Not hungry right now, no," Jaime manages, his voice sounding rough. 

Brienne's shoulders pull up, clearly misinterpreting his comment, and she turns to the door again. "I can leave--"

That won't do. Jaime moves until he's right next to her in the next heartbeat, turning her back towards him and taking the carrier and the bag and placing them next to the bowls in the entrance. "Not for food at least. Right now, I'd rather have you again." 

He leans on his tip toes and grabs Brienne's face between his hands, kissing her deeply. Brienne stiffens for a moment before she puts her hands on his shoulders and presses him against the wall, returning the kiss with the same hunger as he, as if she also didn't have enough the night before. They stumble together back into the bedroom, Jaime's impatient hands ripping her shirt open in his urgency to get to her skin. 

Brienne stops for a moment, looking at the open shirt and her own exposed chest, the clinking of stray buttons hitting the floor suddenly too loud in the room. It reminds Jaime of the fate of her shirt the night before. 

"Do you have something against clothes I should know about, Jaime?" She asks, voice laden with amusement.

"No, but you're overdressed and I'm impatient," he replies, leaning to press his lips against her breastbone, to bite her shoulder and her neck, walking her backwards the last few feet to his bed until they tumble down, tangled together and kissing again. 

It's even better with the light of day over her flushed skin as he kisses her body, her legs parted to make a perfect space for him, her hands grabbing his ass to encourage him deeper, faster, at least until Jaime stops to catch his breath and pulls her hands away, pinning them to the bed by her head. Brienne's moan is loud and almost obscene, pushing against his hold to force his grip around her wrists tighter, almost as tight as hers was last night, her entire body shaking under his. 

They keep kissing even after she's gone soft and pliant, her hands now free and twisted in his hair, Jaime reluctant to stop and pull out, to put any space between them in case she leaves again. This time for real.

"Come on, Jaime," Brienne rasps against his mouth once she has her breath back. "Breakfast."

"Not hungry," he lies, and is betrayed immediately by the gurgle of his stomach.

"Of course not," she says with a laugh, standing from the bed and looking around the room. "If I borrow another shirt, will it survive?"

Jaime goes to his wardrobe and hands her one, watching as Brienne does just a couple of buttons and lets it fall just over the top of her long legs, the image one he already knows he'll revisit frequently. "I guess we'll find out."

...

The day has already been going badly for Jaime, computer issues plaguing his morning that have set him back in his work, and an afternoon of back to back meetings that's going to fuck up his deadline even more means that he's close to snapping when poor Pia trips picking up the service from the last meeting, the cup of congealead tar that once was coffee splashing him.

Jaime looks at his once white shirt now decorated with dark drops and bites his tongue at Pia's horrified expression. 

"I'm so sorry, Mr Lannister," she hurries to apologize, eyes wide and fearful on her face. 

He sighs and forces a rueful smile on his stiff mouth. "It happens," Jaime says, because he might be an asshole, as Brienne usually reminds him with a fond eye roll, but he's not the kind of asshole that would shout at an employee for an accident. "I better run to my office and change into my spare shirt before Tarly gets here for the next meeting." He turns around at the door to see Pia still frozen in place. "Grab Peck or Pod and make them help you clean. Oh, and only tea in the next one."

That makes her smile, a tiny curl of her lips that doesn't show her teeth but at least she doesn't look like she's about to faint anymore. Jaime doesn't stay, he only has fifteen minutes until the next client arrives, and he doesn't actually have another shirt in his office. He's already wearing the spare.

He knows where to find one, though.

"I need your shirt," he says to Brienne entering her office after a quick knock, not even waiting for her to call him in. 

He knows she's usually free at this time, has taken advantage of it more than once.

She's not alone, though. Catelyn Stark, their boss, is sitting on the chair in front of their desk, Brienne's screen turned to her so they can both see a spreadsheet on it. 

"I should warn HR about you," Cat says amused, eyeing Jaime with an arched eyebrow before her gaze lands on the stained shirt. "But you're meeting with Tarly in what, ten?"

"Unfortunately."

"Close the door, Jaime." Brienne's already unbuttoning her shirt, a flush crawling down her face and spilling over her neck and collarbones. Jaime has the usual reaction to that blush, the urge to press his mouth against the reddened skin to feel the heat there, though it's not the moment or the place, definitely not with an audience. "How did that happen?" She reveals the white undershirt she usually wears, the straps of her bra visible under it. 

"An accident," Jaime says with a shrug, taking his shirt off and handing it to Brienne, who looks at it as if it has offended her and lets it drop to the floor behind her desk before picking her jacket from the back of her chair and closing it over the undershirt. He blinks at the image, filing it for later, and puts on Brienne's shirt. 

It is pure luck that Brienne took one of his shirts that morning after the one she was wearing the night before suffered a bit of an accident in their rush to undress, and Jaime has been a bit lax with laundry this week. The shirt she's wearing is the light blue one that Jaime doesn't quite like because it clashes with most of his ties, but for some reason Brienne loves to wear around the house when it's just the two of them. It looks much better on her, if he's completely honest. It's the worst possible match with that shirt.

"I don't have a tie for it," Brienne says, with a frown.

Not much he can do unless he wants to go tieless, though Tarly is the kind of disagreeable asshole who places too much focus on appearances and would comment on his lack of decorum if he does but won't say anything about his lack of taste if he wears it. He's also the kind that would have shouted at Pia, Jaime's sure of it. 

"I'll thank you properly later," he says once he's smoothed his shirt to the best of his abilities. "Come to mine for dinner."

"I don't have any more shirts at your place, you ruined them. _Again_." She doesn't sound as upset as she should and Jaime can't help the smile remembering the night before.

"Your flat, then." He has no intention of spending the night alone. He presses a soft kiss to Brienne's cheek, enjoying the heat of her skin there, before turning to leave.

"No PDAs in the office, Lannister," Cat says, making Brienne's face darken even more. " _Go_ , we also have work to do here."

Jaime rushes out of Brienne's office and into the lift to go back to the meeting room, it's once he's inside the enclosed space that he finally notices the clinging smell of Brienne's soap and skin on the shirt. It's subtle, but once he's aware of it Jaime can't help but take a deep inhale, letting it envelope him, the memory of his nose buried on Brienne's neck while he kissed it and bit it the night before, and her breathy moans as he fucked her slowly accompanying him all the way up.

He has a hard time concentrating during the meeting, Brienne's scent and the promise of the night together almost too distracting. 

When he gets to Brienne's flat in the evening he makes sure to show her how grateful he really is for her help.

In the morning he's the one who steals one of her shirts.

...

Waking up in the morning in Brienne's arms is one of the things Jaime likes the most when Brienne stays the night. 

He's considering asking her to make the arrangement permanent, it's not as if they spend many nights alone since they started dating half a year ago, nevermind what Tyrion has to say about fools rushing in. It would be better if the advice didn't come from the fool who married his girlfriend after dating for two weeks and divorced her six months later.

He turns on the bed, pressed tightly against Brienne's back, and kisses her neck softly until she starts making those delightful noises that mean she's almost awake and getting very interested in the proceedings. Jaime presses his smile against her skin, darting his tongue to lick at the salt there and moving his hand to her breast, pinching her nipple gently while she presses her ass against his groin. 

"Jaime," she breathes out, turning her head for a proper kiss. 

Her eyes are only opened a slit, a ring of blue around her blown pupils, her hair is a mess fanned over the pillow, her lips parted and inviting. Jaime kisses her, ignoring their morning breath in favour of the softness of her mouth and the warmth between their bodies, his cock filling quickly against her ass. They kiss for a few minutes, moving slowly against each other, until she turns completely and climbs on top of him, straddling his hips and pressing her wet cunt down. 

Jaime's moan is long and almost loud enough to drown the sound of a key turning on his front door.

They both freeze at the same time, turning horrified to stare at the door of the bedroom which is not closed. 

"Fuck!" Jaime exclaims as Brienne launches herself out of the bed, managing to slam the door shut before their uninvited guests reach the living room, from where they would be able to see them.

There is only one person who has Jaime's key and is brazen enough to come to his house uninvited and unannounced, the excited patter of feet and childish voices from the other side of the door confirming it, Cersei is there with the kids. Jaime scrambles out of bed and grabs some clean underwear from his drawer while Brienne looks all over the floor for hers. She's not going to find it there, Jaime remembers taking off her knickers in the living room the night before, kneeling between her parted thighs and dedicating all his attention to making her scream when the movie they were watching proved too boring.

"Here," he says, throwing a pair of his own underwear at Brienne while she grabs a couple of his shirts from his wardrobe. 

They dress like that in under a minute, Jaime praying to all Seven Gods that Brienne's knickers ended somewhere hidden. He doesn't want to come out of the room to see Tommen or Myrcella playing with them. 

Cersei is in the living room, impatiently tapping her heeled shoes on the wood flooring while looking at her mobile. If the shock of almost being caught in the act by his family hadn't been enough to dampen Jaime's arousal, his sister's expression would have done the trick. "You took your sweet time, brother," she says as a way of greeting, her eyes skimming over Jaime's dishevelled appearance only to narrow at Brienne over his shoulder. "I'm in a hurry, I have to see my lawyer in 20 minutes."

"Good morning to you too, sweet sister," Jaime replies, walking past her to press a kiss on Tommen's head. "I wasn't expecting company."

" _Clearly_." Jaime has to clench his jaw not to snap at her, especially in front of the kids. His relationship with his sister is complicated. Once upon a time they were inseparable and Jaime would have done anything for her. It took him years to realize that it wasn't mutual and that as soon as he stopped doing Cersei's bidding she put distance between them. Nowadays they are barely cordial, and only in front of other people and for the sake of Cersei's children, whom Jaime adores. 

"You guys had breakfast already?" Brienne asks Myrcella and Tommen, breaking the tension easily and herding them towards the kitchen with a last look at Jaime. "I was going to make pancakes, you won't say no to that, right?"

"I see you're still dating _that_ ," Cersei says, her tone scathing. She has been very vocally displeased about Jaime's newfound happiness in his relationship, especially since her own marriage imploded spectacularly. 

She should have married for love instead of power.

"And I will for as long as she has me," Jaime says, tone as cold as hers, the good feeling of the morning vanishing quickly. "So you'll do well to remember and keep a civil tongue around Brienne." He puts up with many things so he can spend time with his nephew and niece, but he's not going to allow that.

Cersei purses her lips but says nothing more, a curt nod her only response. "I'll be back this evening, make sure they are ready and not hopped up on sugar, I know you like to _indulge_ them."

She leaves before Jaime has a chance to reply, and he stays rooted on the spot taking some deep breaths to calm his anger. 

When he goes into the kitchen is to see Brienne serving pancakes to the kids, a smudge of flour on her chin and a big mug of coffee in her hand. Tommen is talking a mile a minute about something or other, carelessly chewing on his food and gesticulating while Myrcella slowly eats her pancakes, her mobile in her hands and her eyes fixed on the screen. 

He leans on the door jamb for a moment, drinking in Brienne's soft smile and eyes as she looks at the kids. He loves her, this is not the frightening revelation he thought it would be, though it's the first time he puts a name to it.

He's definitely asking her to move in together. 

"What do you want to do today?" he says, finally coming in and kissing Brienne quickly before swiping the coffee mug from her hands. It's perfect, dark and bitter the way he loves it and has slowly converted Brienne to.

"Mom had promised me to go shopping," Myrcella says, eyes darting to him quickly and back to her screen.

"I want to see the kittens!" Tommen says, as he always does when asked.

Brienne looks at Jaime and shrugs, taking the mug from him again. "Do you want me to stay or do you want to spend time with them alone?" 

" _I always want you to stay,_ " he says without thinking. 

It is the truth, after all. 

Brienne stares at him intently as if she can hear everything he hasn't asked out loud yet, then smiles, soft and pleased, and puts a plate of pancakes in front of him, her cheeks flushed when she turns back to her own food. " _I will._ "

She does not leave after that day.

...


End file.
